With false confidence,

standing in a pair new trainers

I peered into a trough

of oceanic volume

filled to the brim

with water that had set

like concrete


A vast, inverted vitrine

more menacing

and icier than melancholy

…but also a shallow one

tepid as a joke

told over a glass of warm beer

with an acquaintance

before I make my excuses and leave..


That day, I lounged

in the shallow-end somewhere

in a waist-deep solution

of bleached water

warmed by a foreign sun

and watched mens’ backs



British skin, floated at eye/nose/mouth level

translucent and indistinguishable

from shreds of tissue

brought to the party

by feet

from toilet

to pool

and when I slipped

I took down a whole gob of chlorine and skin!


Who cares then, when I get out

piss sprinkles over bare feet or down a thigh ?

who would notice whether a prick has been shaken or not

when flipped back into

trunks that have turned

a darker shade of navy

than they were this morning?



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